


Awfully, Perfectly Mundane

by InsertSthMeaningful



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: (bonks characters) go to horny jail, F/F, Fluff, Kissing, Mild Sexual Content, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsertSthMeaningful/pseuds/InsertSthMeaningful
Summary: Emma and Angel are invited to the New Year's Eve dinner in the Xavier mansion. They make the best of the time they have to wait for the first course.
Relationships: Emma Frost/Angel Salvadore
Comments: 15
Kudos: 6
Collections: X-Men X-Traordinaire's Mini Holiday Fic Exchange 2020





	Awfully, Perfectly Mundane

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lavenderlotion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/gifts).



> *panting* I did it!! I finished it just in time!  
> Also: we should consider sending Emma and Angel to horny jail. They're the _worst_ (in other words: I take no responsibility for their actions).

“Oh, this is all _so_ awfully domestic.”

Angel turned from marvelling at the Xavier mansion’s neatly set dinner table to shoot her girlfriend on the couch a sceptic look. “You don’t mean that.”

Emma hummed, smiling that cat-got-the-cream smile of hers now that she had her fiancée’s attention. _But what if I did? Next thing you know we’ll all be gathered around the table, laughing at Sean’s ridiculous jokes and raising our glasses to the new year. There’s nothing more mundane than attending a New Year’s Eve dinner, really._

Huffing out a burst of quiet laughter, Angel shook her head. From the door to the hallway came the clatter of kitchen appliances and the low hum of voices. _You say that as though you’re mad we came._

_Maybe I am._ Sprawled the whole length of the couch, in her snow-white pant suit with her diamond-encrusted earrings, Emma made the most delicious picture as she blinked languidly up at Angel. _Maybe I’m mad that we’re going to be stuck here the whole night when I could have you squirming under me in the sheets instead._

Her words sent a shiver of excitement up Angel’s spine. _Careful what you say. Charles might hear._ Slowly, she rounded the couch, sat down on the broad armrest by Emma’s feet and smoothed a hand down her fiancée’s white-clad shin. Under her touch, Emma purred and arched her back.

“You’re beautiful,” Angel told her, out loud this time and just audible over the chatter of voices from the kitchen. “If it weren’t for the others next door…”

Gently, she grasped Emma’s ankle, brought it up to her lips and nipped experimentally at the white stockings peeking out from under her lover’s pant leg.

“Mrrm. Be nice.” Emma shot her a glare that was more lust than reprimand. “Or you won’t get your reward when we’re back home and alone.”

Angel grinned at that. Oh, she would get her reward alright…

“Should we join the others?” She nodded out the door and down the hallway from where the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted. “Erik didn’t manage to ban Charles from the stove, so I’m sure they could use some help.”

The words had barely left her mouths when there came an enormous crash from the kitchen, and then a flurry of harried voices.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me in there,” said Emma, eyes wide in mock fright, before her voice lowered to a coarse whisper. “I’d like to drag _you_ somewhere though.”

Angel hesitated for a heartbeat. The little black dress she was wearing was short, _very_ short, and it wouldn’t take much for it to get rucked up to expose the shiny lace panties she was wearing just for Emma…

On the couch, the icy blonde curls of her hair pooling around her cheekbones and over the satin of her suit jacket, Emma pushed a sweet wistful sigh that punched Angel’s breath right out her. “Make an exception for me, sweetheart.”

Well. Angel hardly needed to be told twice.

Her hands were first in unbuttoning Emma’s jacket, shacky with greed, and then her lips were pressing gentle kisses to Emma’s satin-and-velvet skin, caressing the sweet heat of her chest as Emma buried her hands in Angel’s dark locks and tugged. Angel moaned against her fiancée’s sternum, revelling in Emma’s groans above her when she caught one of her nipples between her lips and suckled.

Bless Emma for forgoing even a bralette.

“Oh, this is scandalous,” Emma gasped, her hands slipping lower to dip into Angel’s décolleté, “absolutely outrageous. Just imagine, if old Lady Xavier was still alive-”

_She’d be equal parts appalled and mortified, believe me,_ Charles’ voice sounded in Angel’s head, and she recoiled, immediately locking eyes with Emma.

_Has no one ever taught you not to peek, you naughty boy?_ Emma sent back, projecting the words to Angel as well at the same time as she tucked herself back into her suit jacket and brushed it neatly down her sides to eliminate any creases. A mischievous smile was tugging the corners of her lips upwards.

Charles’ response arrived tinged with amusement. _Oh, they have. But I thought you’d rather prefer it if Sean and Hank didn’t get an eyeful upon walking in with our first course._

Flushing what she knew had to be an especially dark shade of crimson, Angel got up and tugged her dress – “Kleines Schwarzes” Erik had called it with a wink, she remembered suddenly – back into place. Emma watched on with barely veiled dismay.

“We’ll have to postpone our amusement then,” she sighed, taking Angel’s hand with a graceful tilt of her head and brushing a chaste kiss against her mouth after she’d pulled herself into a standing position.

Shrugging, Angel inconspicuously snaked an arm around her fiancée’s waist and pulled her closer. “It’s not like we don’t have at least an ounce of self-restraint left, baby…”

“Self-restraint not to do what?” The floorboards creaked, and in through the high double doors burst Sean, with four plates of salad balanced precariously on his hands and arms and Hank hot on his heels. “Hey, weren’t you girls meant to light the candles?”

Angel sighed. Emma glowered.

“I’m not a _girl,”_ she growled low in her throat, but Angel was already towing her along, getting the matches from where Erik had left them on the ornate stucco mantelpiece over the roaring fireplace.

“Leave those boy virgins alone,” she purred, her shortness for once working to her advantage as she kissed along Emma’s collarbone. “Light my fire instead.”

Emma’s responding smile made her heart break into bloom.

“Awfully, perfectly mundane,” she whispered, “as I predicted,” and then she was leaning down and kissing Angel – kissing her _right_ , with tongue and all – and Sean was barfing in the background and Hank was spluttering and the matches slipped from Angel’s hand, but it didn’t matter, didn’t matter one bit. All that mattered were Emma’s lips on hers, and a whole new year in front of them – a whole new year, theirs to take and theirs to shape.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)


End file.
